HP: A Magical Journey

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"I was not expecting this."

Quinn cranked his neck up. To his utter surprise, his eyes caught the sight of dragonhide boots. He shifted his body, bearing the stress of the chains tightening, to look up even further to up to find himself looking upon a person dressed in black.

His eyes turned into frisbees, for even in his wildest of dreams had he expected Severus Snape, the person he had just killed, would manifest in front of him in his own soulscape. It wasn't a dream, but it could've been very well a nightmare.

". . . Did Greed make you somehow?" Quinn couldn't remove his eyes from the face of the man that looked so real. "You wouldn't tell me even if you were," he sighed in self-deprecating. "You're here to haunt me, aren't you. . . go ahead; you deserve that much."

Quinn stared at the "ghost's" face— a thin man with sallow skin and a large, hooked nose, straight thinned lips, and dark, penetrating eyes that resembled tunnels, all framed by shoulder-length hair. Even the flowing black robes were so hauntingly similar to the real deal.

Snape looked down at Quinn in stoic silence until he finally spoke, "I expected more from the man who defeated me in a duel, especially more from by whose hands I ended up dying."

Quinn lowered his head and pressed the side of his face on the floor, looking away from Snape. He couldn't give two squats about what Snape thought about him— but the question was valid— he right now wasn't even close to his usual self, much less his best self.

"It's strange, but I have been 'watching,'" said Snape, "and I have to say I was quite surprised you were going through this ordeal of yours. However, I thought with your actions as the invisible vigilante, your conviction would've been stronger. It's disappointing to see that someone like that has fallen to this level."

Quinn didn't move or even twitch. He laid on the floors with chains around him.

"But I suppose you see what you expect to see. I thought you were different from all other dunderheads, but you're just like every one of those idiots."

Quinn snapped his head up and was ruthlessly yanked down by the chains. He forced his head up with the links digging into his neck. "I just went through Pride and Wrath the other day. . . I'm not free from feeling those emotions. . . so I suggest that you don't go down this route. Tell Greed that this joke of his is not amusing. Tell him that I will stay quiet, so there's no need to continue this distasteful joke."

"Oh? And what would you do about it? I'm not going to stop myself from calling what I see— what I see is just pathetic."

Quinn felt his anger rise up. He would've taken the indictments about killing Snape lying down because they were true; he would've apologized to the man's ghost. But to hear that he hadn't tried to fight against the Sins was an insult that he couldn't take.

"What do you know? You became a slave to an egotistical megalomaniac snake and bent your knee in begging to an old manipulative bastard."

"I, you foolish child, have deceived one of the greatest wizards of all time, making myself one of his trusted generals while being in his service of an accomplished Legilimence with a head of secrets that could've gotten me killed. I had become significant enough that Albus Dumbledore, the walking image of all good, risked his reputation to give me— a Death Eater, who has spilled blood of innocents— shelter in a school full of children.

Until my death, I was well and good and made the best of my situation. And what have you done? Struggle against something that doesn't even exist."

"I could do both of that, and I could do them now," spat Quinn.

"As if. You can't even deal with yourself and escape from a simple mess that you have idiotically created for yourself. You won't last a single day in my situation. You would be painfully slaughtered by the Dark Lord, and Dumbledore would lead you by the nose until you couldn't tell if your actions were truly yours or something he planned for you."

It was as if the lid over a pot of boiling water popped because of the rising steam. The soulscape shook as Quinn pushed himself off the ground. The chains that bound him snapped by the links, shattering into pieces in the vain effort of trying to hold the owner of the soulscape down.

"Listen here, you overgrown bat," said Quinn, pushing his face near Snape's. "I don't want to hear all of this shit from someone who couldn't stop pining for a girl who was nice to the miserable little boy. Yeah, it was romantic and honorable for a while, but come on, it has been more than a decade."

Snape's expression didn't change; instead, he stepped back and gave Quinn a look over. "Here, I thought you enjoyed the floor a bit too much."

"What—." Quinn paused mid-outburst. There were no chains around him, nor was he pressed against the floor. His feet were on the floor, standing him up. "How. . . ." he looked up at Snape, who was looking back at him with unimpressed eyes.

"Look around yourself," said Snape simply.

Quinn looked. It took him a beat, but he realized what Snape implied. The soulscape had come a long way from the initial blackened state— the white was still tainted with a thick yellow, but the vibe that Quinn could feel was much better. He turned back towards the Soul, and his eyes widened when he saw that it had regained much of its beautiful golden color, and except for some muddiness, it looked as if it hadn't been touched by the sin curse.

"It seems that my death was enough for you to miss that you had recovered much of your soulscape," Snape sounded. "You should get a better handle yourself if you're going to continue with your other secret job. You were struck just at the right times that you weren't aware of the control you actually had."

Quinn turned to Snape with wide eyes. "You're not Greed's working, are you? You're the real deal— the real Severus Snape."

"That seems to be the case."

"But. . . how?"

Snape shook his head. "Unfortunately, I don't know. I remember being executed by the killing curse, but after that, I have no inkling of how I can talk to you here," he said, "but I somehow know it was because of the killing curse and something in your possession."

Quinn furrowed his brows in thought. 'The killing curse and something in my possession,' he thought.

A memory of reading entered his mind. In the Little Hangleton graveyard, Voldemort dueled Harry Potter after his revival. Their magic met, and the 'ghosts' of the people murdered by Voldemort emanated out from the clash of the spells. Quinn turned to Snape and wondered if this was the same phenomenon. He had, after all, forcefully expunged Snape's soul using the killing curse.

'But what about something in my possession?' Quinn wondered. The answer came to him like a bolt of blue lightning. His hand went to his chest, and while it wasn't there, he knew what it was.

The Ressurection Stone. It was his only possession that could that was related soul.

"I. . . think I know why you're here," said Quinn, rubbing his forehead, "but I can't be sure."

"Doesn't matter," said Snape, "I couldn't be bothered by something I have no control over. The subject of true importance is that I have to get you out of this mess."

Quinn continued to stare at Snape with a complicated and incredulous gaze.

"Greed has used some clever tricks to have you stuck here. But I think I can help you get out of here and get rid of Greed while doing it."

". . . How do you know all of this?"

Snape paused, "I do not have any memories after my death. One moment I was seeing the green of the killing curse, the next, I was here. However, I somehow am aware of what has happened with a few people— and for some reason, you're one of those people— I suppose I kept a check on my killer in the afterlife I can't remember. And it seems there is no secret to the dead."

There weren't many things Quinn couldn't understand, but this was one of those things he couldn't wrap his mind around.

"Now, let's not waste any more time; you have to follow my lead so that—"

"You can help me?" Quinn frowned. It didn't make sense.

". . . I'm dead, Mr. West. I can't directly do anything. It's against the natural law, and I don't fancy breaking them, even if I could. All I can provide you is an advantage that you can leverage into defeating Greed."

Quinn nodded. He could use some help. He couldn't see defeating Greed without help.

"But I will need something in return," said Snape.

"What?" asked Quinn with a surprise. He hadn't expected this. "I'm not going to hand my body over to you if that's what you want."

"I have no desire for your body, you fool," said Snape, sneering. "I need a promise from you."

"I'm not swearing an Unbreakable Vow with the dead."

Snape was not amused. He stared at Quinn with a look that thoroughly looked down on him. "Just your word would do. . . . I hope you're not going to deny me— the man who you killed— a simple promise."

". . . If it is something I can do, I will give you the promise for it," Quinn sighed, "I don't even know if you're real or not; you could just be a figment of my imagination."

"There is a war on the horizon," said Snape, "the Dark Lord is not going to hide any longer, especially after failing to kill Dumbledore. Wars are never pretty, and no one is spared from some consequences. I want you to promise that you will protect some people for me. . . two people. . . Lily Potter and Ivy Potter."

Quinn's eyes widened. He said, "You are already dead. . . even now?"

Snape's eyes softened, and he uttered a single word, full of regality, "Always."

Quinn's jaw couldn't drop any faster. He didn't even know how he had walked himself into this.

"I will try to ensure their safety," he said after recovering.

Snape's eyes narrowed, but Quinn didn't budge. Snape scoffed but nodded.

"So, how are you going to help me?"

Snape started, "Greed, as you call him, has blocked you out from what's happening outside. . . ."

Quinn tried to look outside, but he was still blocked. Thinking about what was happening brought him the anxiety momentarily forgotten because of the shock of coming across the dead man. Just the thought of Greed interacting with Daphne and Ivy made him want to throw up.

". . . . but in doing that, he has also blocked his internal vision," continued Snape. "He can look inside anytime he wants, but that would allow him to do the same. He hasn't done that, and I don't think he's going to do— after all, his entire aim of springing what going outside was to weaken you."

Quinn didn't respond. Greed had said that he was doing it because of Daphne— and that could be a reason, but it wasn't the sole reason. As Snape had said, Quinn knew that the timing was to send him into a rut— and despite having that realization, Greed's actions had the intended effect.

"You're going to use this vision block. . . and when he comes back, you're going to strike."

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Quinn West - MC - Still in deep doubt if what he is seeing is real or not.

Severus Snape - Dead - I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. . .

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